


Journalists Don't Breathe Fire

by orphan_account



Series: Trans!Archuleta and Cook [1]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trans, Gen, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David didn’t like violence. He didn’t like hitting people. He didn’t like seeing other people hit people. But for all of his pacifism, he <i>really</i> wanted to hit some of these people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journalists Don't Breathe Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly ~~blamed on~~ ~~dedicated~~ blamed on my friend Jak, who cornered me on skype about a month ago and said "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT COOKLETA", and now, well, I didn't realize I could cram 42 episodes of television into less than two days like that. This is also actually, like, a tiny part of a bigger universe in which both Davids are trans and still end up on American Idol. (And still end up as the finalists and Cook still wins. My inner optimist is showing, don't mind me.) (The main fic in this universe is still being written, and is shaping up to be Not Very Short, so that'll take a bit to get finished.)
> 
>  **Warnings:** Transphobia, including misgendering and insistent use of birth names. And, really mild violence and people who suck? (Cook punches someone, but they _really_ have it coming, so.)

David didn’t like violence. He didn’t like hitting people. He didn’t like seeing other people hit people.

But for all of his pacifism, he _really_ wanted to hit some of these people. If they called him and Cook _her_ one more time, he really was going to hit them.

The press after the finale was probably David’s least favorite thing ever, and considering his intense dislike of wet socks that bordered on an irrational hatred, that was saying something. Cook didn’t seem to be enjoying it any more than he was, which made him feel a little better.

And then someone made the mistake of calling them _Davina_ and _Amy_ and David was very, very close to just losing his patience and snapping. (After the one interview when he was first outed, he tried not to snap or yell, even if it wasn’t _really_ his fault the interviewer walked out mid-interview and wouldn’t come out until they left. But gosh, losing his temper was tempting.) He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see Cook haul off and punch the guy.

He tried to be angry for a split second, but he really just couldn’t. Not when he was too busy being glad that it meant _he_ didn’t have to hit them. He did pull Cook away, though, because Cook looked like a second round was _really_ tempting.

“Don’t get mad?” Cook asked, while David steered him away from the mess of reporters and security people.

“Why would I get mad? You saved me the trouble of doing it myself,” David replied, getting them a safe distance away and around a corner, so they were out of sight of everyone. “I would’ve hit him myself, um, but you kinda beat me to the punch, so.” Cook snorted at the pun and David rolled his eyes. “Not intentional, shut up. Your hand okay?”

“It’s fine. You alright?”

“You’re the one who hits someone and you’re asking me if _I’m_ alright?” David gave Cook his best _why am I friends with you, you are completely ridiculous_ look. “Yes, I’m fine. You get to feel like the white knight, happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Cook said, grinning and yanking him into a hug. “Does this make you the prince I saved from the dragon, then?”

“Journalists don’t breathe fire, Cook.”

“They breathe down our necks, close enough.”

“Why am I friends with you again?”


End file.
